


One Crowded Hour

by ZairaA



Series: Summer Pornathon 2015 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War I, Angst, Epistolary, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4461047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZairaA/pseuds/ZairaA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I know there's nothing stupider than falling for someone who'll be back in the trenches by autumn.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Crowded Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Merlin Summerpornathon 2015 Challenge 1: Cross
> 
> With many thanks to Asya who told me this was a winner. I didn't believe her. Shame on me. <3
> 
> Title from Sir Walter Scott's 'War Songs'.

_15.07.1916  
A new batch arrived today, straight from the trenches. At least a third won't make it. The rest we'll fix up and send back for the Germans to try again. One of mine is a Tommy lieutenant. No tags, no letters. His leg is a bloody mess and there's the beginning of infection. Jury's still out on that one. _

_17.07.1916  
The lieutenant is still delirious. Cleaned his wound with some rotgut, while Percy held him down. He's quite the handsome fellow once the blood and grime is gone. Would be a real shame. Hope he at least wakes long enough to give a name. Bloody hate it when they are unidentified._

_18.07.1916  
Night shifts are the worst. In the silence you can hear every rattling breath, the crying and that final gasp just before they go. Most men die at dawn, with the hope of a new day on the horizon. I'm sitting with my lieutenant again. I know I shouldn't pick favourites, but I keep thinking “This one. Please let this one survive.” _

_20.07.1916  
The fever finally broke. Merci a Dieu. His name is Arthur Pendragon._

_22.07.1916  
Stubborn prat! Does he think I sewed him back together just so that he can go and ruin all my work because he's too embarrassed to use a bedpan? Told him I had seen it all already. He blushed like a schoolboy. Highlight of my day. _

_25.07.1916  
Lieutenant Pendragon insists that he can walk. Never mind that I'm the medic. Contemplated shackling him to the bed, but then agreed on the condition that he uses a crutch and lets me help him. Ended up hopping around camp together, while he doubted my expertise and I insulted his intelligence. Obviously a match made in heaven. I want to bang his head against a hard surface. ~~Or kiss his stupid mouth raw.~~_

_01.08.1916  
Arthur's leg is healing well, so our walks get steadily longer. Today we went all the way down to the river. Shared a cigarette under the old willow tree, courtesy of an American who died this morning. Death is our steady companion, and I know there's nothing stupider than falling for someone who'll be back in the trenches by autumn. But he's here now, radiant and alive, and dear God, I can't help myself. _

_08.08.1916  
Arthur has started to strip down to his undershirt and braces in the heat. It's the sweetest torture I've ever had to submit to. I can't take my eyes from where he's lying next to me in the tall summer grass, like Apollo come to walk amongst the mortals. I want to lean closer and taste the sweat from his collarbone, discover the sensitive peaks of his nipples with my lips and bury my face into the crease of his thigh. To part his legs and inhale the musky, male scent of him, to feel the weight of his length on my tongue. It's possible I'm going insane._

_16.08.1916  
He kissed me. My god. I didn't let myself imagine– Hope is such a rare commodity these days, and I know there's only one way for this to end. Still, I will charge forward blindly, like a lamb to the slaughter, drunk on his kisses, soft and warm and with a lingering trace of crisp green apples on his lips. _

_23.08.1916  
I wish we could stay here forever, in this cocoon of peace and sunshine. A world without war, and instead filled with sun-warmed skin under my palms and slow, wet kisses. With tasting each other in all the forbidden places. Arthur's mouth on me, as he kneels between my legs, his blond head bowed as if in prayer. Making him come with my fingers inside him and my name on his lips._

_What if we had met before the world went mad? What if we could just go home?_

_31.08.1916  
Arthur's leg is better, the limp almost gone. Every morning I wonder if today will be the day I lose him, and it only makes me need him more. I want him to bury himself inside me until it hurts, until all I feel is him. I want to write myself into his skin with lips and teeth and fingers so that he'll carry me with him, always. _

_15.09.1916  
He told me he loved me when he came to say goodbye. He must have known for a while. I couldn't say it back. Damn this all to hell._

_16.09.1916  
But I do. God, I do. Please. Please be safe. Please come back to me._


End file.
